


where did the dreams that i had when i was young go?

by aominedaikis



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Character Study, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, References to Depression, also brief mentions of the other miracles, aomine centric with some aokaga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23855539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aominedaikis/pseuds/aominedaikis
Summary: So somewhere during the summer of his third year, Daiki scratched the NBA out of his future, and then nine months later the letter from Osaka University came and he decided that this is going to be his future instead.or, aomine daiki attempts to be a normal basketball-playing university student, featuring kagami taiga as his new teammate and neighbour.
Relationships: Akashi Seijuurou & Aomine Daiki, Aomine Daiki & Kuroko Tetsuya, Aomine Daiki & Momoi Satsuki, Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga
Comments: 39
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title from day6's for me.

The first time Daiki sees them again after high school is actually only a few days after the school year ends. Satsuki somehow manages to drag him to Seirin’s graduation—just a bit before their own.

It’s weird seeing Tetsu and Kagami in something so _formal_. He’s seen them in their school uniforms, yeah, but it’s different from seeing them all dressed up, complete with a nice little black bowtie (Tetsu) and a deep red tie neatly done around his neck (Kagami). Well, maybe he’s seen Tetsu dressed up nicely when they graduated from middle school, but the memory of that is all hazy for obvious reasons. So he takes his time studying the pair, committing the image of them in that formalwear to memory. He wonders if _they’ll_ think it’s weird to see him dressed up for _his_ graduation—if they even come to that.

Daiki drags his gaze over Kagami’s figure, noting the way that his tie is _just_ a little looser than Tetsu’s and that his blazer is unbuttoned. Clearly not his choice of attire.

“You look nice,” Daiki drawls, bringing his eyes up to meet Kagami’s as he sticks his hands in his pockets.

Kagami snorts. “Thanks,” he says, but Daiki’s already turning his attention to Tetsu.

His face softens a little when he meets Tetsu’s gaze, because it’s Tetsu and three years later Daiki is still trying to right his wrongs. He gives Tetsu a nod, half a smile, and says, “Looking good. The bowtie suits you.”

Tetsu smiles back at him, and Daiki lets the grin stretching over his lips grow too. “Thank you, Aomine-kun,” Tetsu replies, but that’s all he could manage before Satsuki shoves a bouquet into his arms—it’s a wonder she managed to wait at all before doing that, really.

With his best friend fussing over his other best friend, his attention is drawn back to Kagami. And maybe he has good timing, because he finds Kagami already staring at him. _Why_ , Daiki can’t understand, —Kagami’s the one in a suit, not _him_ —but it looks like the other boy wants to say something and is struggling to find the words.

He does the opposite of what a good friend would do. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he says. His lazy drawl is laced with a hint of smugness, but before Kagami can yell at him for it, Daiki adds, “What’s up?”

Kagami’s brows furrow. “Heard you got into Osaka. Kuroko told me.”

“Yeah. On half scholarship.” Was Kagami trying to work up the nerve to _congratulate_ him?

What comes out of the other boy’s mouth isn’t a congratulations. Instead, it’s a, “Yeah? Me too. Apparently the basketball helped.”

Daiki’s jaw almost drops. The revelation leaves him speechless for a beat. Kagami got _accepted into Osaka University_? Why hasn’t Satsuki told him anything? Heck, why hasn’t _Tetsu_? The little bastard knows that Daiki accepted the scholarship offer.

“Huh,” is what Daiki settles for. Then, because curiosity just has to get the best of him, “So, are you going? You accepting the offer?”

Kagami scowls at that. “Nobody’s stupid enough to turn down that offer, Aomine.”

He smirks. “Not even you?” Daiki can’t help but let out.

Kagami’s scowl turns into a glare, but maybe it’s because it’s graduation day, or maybe he’s in a good mood thinking about Osaka University, but he doesn’t return Daiki’s insult.

Well, looks like they’d be going to university together. Which will probably mean playing on the same basketball team and all. _That’s_ going to be a ride.

At least Daiki now has one familiar face in university.

Kagami’s call comes just as Daiki pushes himself off the couch to start getting ready. His heart sinks a little, praying to whatever God is out there that Kagami’s not going to pull a last minute rain check on him. He hasn’t seen the redhead since Seirin’s graduation, but that’s not why he’s hoping that Kagami won’t bail today. He hasn’t played any one-on-one with anyone since then either, and he’s raring to go—especially now that school is out and they don’t really have practice anymore. And while Daiki _still_ denies it, they both know that Kagami makes the most interesting opponent on the court for him.

Daiki picks up his phone and tucks it between his ear and his shoulder as he stands.

Over on the other line, he hears the sound of someone rummaging through something, followed by Kagami muttering, “Fuck—Hey, Aomine. Hold on one sec.” He waits, and a couple of beats later Kagami triumphantly goes, “Ah! Found my shoes. Hey.”

“Hey,” Daiki replies. “You’re not bailing, are you?”

“Nah,” Kagami says, and Daiki can’t lie, it feels like he can breathe again. It’s kind of pathetic, but he’s actually been looking forward to this. Kagami goes on, “So, I was gonna ask later whenever we meet, but I was scared I’ll forget.”

“Idiot,” Daiki manages to get in.

Kagami makes a noise of protest, but he plunges on. “I’ve got some apartment inspections this weekend. In Osaka. Y’know, for my new place when university starts.” He pauses, and Daiki’s just about to ask what the _hell_ does that have to do with him—just because they’re going to the same university doesn’t mean they’re suddenly best friends who need to know each other’s schedules at all times—when Kagami goes, “Wanna come?”

He supposes it won’t be a bad idea. It’s not like he has a place to live yet, —hasn’t even _thought_ about it—and a trip to Osaka with Kagami is honestly better than going alone. He’d prefer Satsuki or even Tetsu’s company, but since Kagami’s headed to the same school as him anyways, why not? He could get used to the redhead’s company anyways, considering that they’d most likely end up on the same basketball team without Tetsu or Akashi supervising like they did in Vorpal Swords.

“Yeah, sure,” Daiki says.

“Cool,” Kagami replies. “See you at the court, then. I’ll give you details later.”

True to Kagami’s words, Daiki finds himself sitting on a shinkansen to Osaka next to Kagami the next Saturday. It’s a little weird. Sure, the two of them have hung out before, but that’s mostly at streetball courts and whatever Maji Burger was nearby. They’ve never exactly taken a trip to another region _together_. But Kagami doesn’t bring it up, so Daiki doesn’t either.

They spend the first fifteen minutes or so of the train ride in silence. Kagami has one of his earphone buds plugged into his ear, tapping his foot to some music Daiki can’t hear.

Then Kagami finally turns to look at him, pulling his earphones away. “So, why Osaka?”

He shrugs. “The scholarship. What was it you said the other day? Nobody’s stupid enough to turn down that offer.”

Kagami rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I meant. Aren’t you interested in the NBA? Much harder to get drafted from Japan, you know,” he says.

Daiki snorts at that. If he were to answer that honestly, what he says is going to be much more loaded than what he’d like to be discussing with Kagami. But even if he doesn’t— Well, he can give Kagami half the truth. “You think my English is good enough for me to survive in America?” he retorts.

“I could’ve taught you,” Kagami says. That’s not the response Daiki’s expecting. The idea of Kagami teaching him English is laughable.

But he guesses that Kagami _does_ owe him a thing or two for giving him basketball pointers over the years, so that would’ve been a fair trade. Maybe once or twice Daiki himself has entertained the thought, too. But that was before it hit him, like a punch in the face, what the NBA could— _would_ —mean.

It’s too much pressure. The insane pull towards winning, the _need_ to surpass everyone else and become the best—the _only_ one who could reach those lengths.

It’ll be Teikou all over again.

And Daiki doesn’t know if he could survive that a second time.

What if the NBA makes him lose passion for basketball? What if it starts feeling like a chore again? What then?

So somewhere during the summer of his third year, Daiki scratched the NBA out of his future, and then nine months later the letter from Osaka University came and he decided that _this_ is going to be his future instead.

“—mine? Hey, Aomine.”

It’s only when Kagami knocks his knee against Daiki’s that he realises that he hasn’t said anything to Kagami’s—belated—offer to teach him English. He turns his head to look at the redhead, only to be met with a questioning look. He waves his hand, ignores the obvious question in Kagami’s eyes, and says, “Aren’t your English grades bad or something?”

“Huh?” Kagami’s eyes widen, then narrow, and he shoots Daiki a glare. “That’s not the same as _talking_ in English.”

“Yeah, but you probably would’ve been a bad teacher,” Daiki points out.

“Like you are at basketball?” Kagami counters. “I can’t be worse than you at explaining shit.”

“I could just _show_ you how to play with basketball.” He knows he’s terrible at coaching basketball, —most of his techniques are traditional in the first place—but if Kagami wants to argue with him, then he’s not going down without a fight.

“Yeah, well, I could just show you how to speak English,” Kagami says, challenging Daiki to come up with a retort for that one.

And dammit, Kagami’s right. But he’s not about to admit defeat, so he says, “What about you? Don’t _you_ wanna go to the NBA?”

He voices the question half to throw Kagami off, but also half because he’s actually curious. Out of everyone else, he figures that it’d be Kagami who would be most into the NBA. He _did_ grow up in America, after all. Was even trained by a retired WNBA player, too. It’s hard to imagine why Kagami wouldn’t want to go back to America and fight tooth and nail to get drafted. Come to think of it, it’s a wonder that he wasn’t the first one to ask Kagami that question instead of the other way around.

Surprisingly, Kagami’s response is as noncommittal as his own. “Japan’s comfortable,” Kagami answers.

It’s obviously not the full story, but Daiki doesn’t push. Neither of them do.

By the time Daiki purchases his next bullet train tickets to Osaka, he’s signed a lease to live in one of those apartments where eighty percent of its residences are students. It’s a studio, and he and Kagami are going to be next door neighbours.

In a week, he’ll be back in Osaka, but this time with his parents seeing him off so they could help him settle before orientation week rolls around.

The weekend before basketball tryouts, Satsuki visits.

She lugs her small suitcase through his door, never mind the fact that his studio apartment is barely big enough for one. He knows how it’ll play out if he doesn’t say yes to her staying overnight; she’ll pout at him and threaten to call his mother and whine about how Daiki isn’t being a good friend and he’ll have no choice but to sigh and let her have his bed while he drags a spare futon out.

He doesn’t even really know why she’s here in Osaka, much less in his apartment. She says it’s to make sure that he’s still in shape and ready for the tryouts, but Daiki isn’t really sure why she’d do that. He already knows he’s making the team; that’s what the scholarship is for. Daiki tells her that.

She huffs. “Can’t I be excited for my best friend’s varsity tryouts?”

Daiki’s heart warms a little when Satsuki calls him her best friend.

He rolls his eyes, but offers her a hint of a smile all the same. “What’s that thing people say? ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder?’ I knew you’d miss me.” He says it smugly, like he can tell she’s visiting just because she wants to and it’s been three weeks too long since they last saw each other.

Satsuki flicks his forehead for it. Then huffs again, and tells him, “Just because you’re guaranteed a spot in the team doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be trying your best, Dai-chan. You want to be in first string, don’t you?”

Of course he does. But that’s probably a given, considering who he is. Sure, he’s only a first year, which means that normally his chances might not be all that high, but he’s also _Aomine Daiki_ , the Ace of Miracles. The thought of not making first string is unthinkable.

“I’ll make first string,” he tells Satsuki confidently. “Starter, too.”

“Then you better start practicing! Tryouts are in four days, right?” she says. Her hands are on her hips and she’s staring up at him like that’d somehow make him rush out the door to start jogging or something.

All he does is laugh. “You’re not my personal trainer, Satsuki,” Daiki replies. “And besides, what’s the point of you visiting if I’m too busy training? I thought you missed me.”

“I never said that,” she counters, but there’s no bite to it and with the way her smile softens, he can tell she’ll let training slide.

He takes her on a campus tour instead, because she won’t shut up about it. It also makes the both of them feel better about not going to the same school, he thinks.

If anyone had told him in the first year of high school that he’d end up considering _Akashi Seijuurou_ as one of his friends, Daiki would’ve laughed at them. Yet when his phone rings and displays Akashi’s caller ID, he doesn’t make a face like he would’ve back before everything happened—back when talking to his former middle school teammates still felt like a chore.

Daiki swipes to accept his call, greeting him with, “What’s up?”

“Daiki,” Akashi says. The way he calls Daiki by his first name doesn’t escape Daiki’s notice. Akashi still has that air to him that says that he’s superior to not just the average person, but to every single person he’s ever come across. But the way he says Daiki’s name doesn’t feel _as_ condescending as it did in their younger years, so Daiki lets it slide. Akashi wouldn’t maintain contact with him if he doesn’t think Daiki is worth it.

“Sei,” he returns, just because he’s a little shit and he _knows_ Akashi will roll his eyes at the nickname. Daiki grins at the thought. “Miss me?”

He gets a derisive snort—or what would’ve been the Akashi Seijuurou equivalent of a snort—in response, and Akashi ignores Daiki’s question, instead going, “How is Osaka University?”

He’s tempted to tease Akashi, to ask him if he’s going soft with the way he’s checking up on his former teammate. But the first few weeks of university has been rough enough that Daiki finds that he appreciates that someone’s asking—even if that someone is Akashi.

“Hard,” he responds. A shrug follows, before he realises that Akashi can’t see it. “Still trying to get the hang of it, I guess. Not the worst thing in the world,” Daiki elaborates. It’s really not, but Daiki knows that he’s also downplaying it. It’s just that he isn’t entirely sure how to explain to Akashi how sometimes he feels so wound up and other times he wants nothing more than to stay in all day and say fuck it to all his classes. It’s hard enough to tell Satsuki how he’s feeling, let alone _Akashi_.

“Ah,” comes Akashi’s response. Then, “Not exactly the life you expected, Daiki?” And maybe it’s the tone of his voice, the way Akashi doesn’t sound like he’s judging him, but that feels more sympathetic than anything Akashi has ever said to him.

He’s not sure how he feels about it.

“Something like that,” Daiki mutters. “Who would’ve thought that university isn’t all fun and games and parties?” It’s probably not the answer his former teammate was looking for.

Akashi scoffs at that, but he doesn’t give Daiki a retort.

He takes that as an opportunity to lighten the mood. “So,” he begins, drawling. “Do you ask everyone how they’re doing in university and make sure that they’re settling in okay, or am I just special?”

Akashi doesn’t miss a beat. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says. He doesn’t elaborate, but Daiki’s no stranger to Kise complaining about how _Akashicchi sometimes acts like a mother hen, you know?_

Leave it to Akashi to regularly call his old teammates that supposedly means nothing to him just _because_.

It’s just such an Akashi thing to do, to call his teammates by their first names because that _somehow_ establishes superiority, to keep tabs on them because it makes him feel like he’s in control. Daiki doesn’t question it. Not anymore.

It’s not like it bothers him anyways. Akashi’s obviously outgrown whatever issue he had, too. He’s become a better version of the Akashi that Daiki knew at the end of middle school. If there are still parts of him that need to feel like he’s in control, then so be it. He wouldn’t be Akashi Seijuurou without it.

Besides, Daiki has a feeling that Akashi enjoys having childhood friends. Or childhood teammates. Whatever they were.

Daiki flops down on his bed. “Hey, Akashi?” he finally says. “Thanks.”

Akashi hums in response. “Until next time, Aomine.”

And just like that, the line is dead.

Daiki exhales, somehow feeling a little lighter than he did before the call. He figures Akashi still has that weird effect on people.

Over the years, Vorpal Swords training has slowly mended whatever was broken in the Generation of Miracles’ relationship. They didn’t see each other all that often, —hard to do so when they’re all in different parts of the country—but Daiki thinks that all those time they spent during school breaks has made him understand his old teammates better.

Akashi included.

It’s after four weeks of classes that he finally decides he’s had enough.

His track record with schools and classes hasn’t been that bad since first year of high school, but the brunt of university makes him wonder what it’ll be like if he just gives up again. Maybe he’s just burnt out from juggling lectures and assignments and basketball practice, or maybe it’s the fact that Satsuki isn’t here to keep him in check anymore.

Blearily, he wonders when was the last time he’s held up on his own for this long without Satsuki.

 _Fuck_ , Daiki thinks. He knows he’s ignored her advice many, many times before, —brushed her aside when all she wanted was to make sure that he’s doing okay—but it’s times like these that it really hits him that he really _is_ reliant on her. Before university, she’s always been there. He can’t remember any important moment of his life without Satsuki in the picture.

Still, he refuses to pick up his phone and give Satsuki a call. Out of pride, determination, stubbornness—he isn’t really sure himself.

But he tells himself that he doesn’t need to pester Satsuki.

Not yet.

He’s been skipping classes for three days in a row now, which probably _really_ isn’t good for him. But he keeps on telling himself that he’ll make it to the next one, and he’ll just… Well, he’ll find a way to catch up on the ones he missed.

It’s not so bad. It’s _not_.

It’s when Daiki’s in this process of talking himself up and justifying his lazy past few days that he hears a knock on his door. Kagami.

He picks himself up from his bed, because the knocks don’t stop and Daiki knows better than anyone—except maybe Tetsu—that they won’t until Daiki opens up. Or until Kagami decides to bust down the door, whichever is faster.

Lucky for him, he reaches the door before Kagami does any damage. He turns the knob, pushes the door open, and peers out to look at Kagami. 

“What?” Daiki asks, as a greeting.

It takes Kagami a moment to reply. His gaze drags over Daiki’s body, from his feet up to his face. “What?” Daiki asks again.

“Basketball practice,” Kagami says. “You haven’t gotten ready.”

 _Shit._

Understanding dawns on Kagami’s face. “Don’t tell me you forgot, Aomine.”

He wants to deny it, wants to tell Kagami that he didn’t _forget_ , he was just _preoccupied_ , but the truth is he did. The days have been blurring together, and Daiki has refused to think about anything at all, actually. It’s easier to get through the weird feeling of not wanting to be out there when he doesn’t think about his responsibilities.

But this is basketball practice, and it’s not one that he can skip without an excuse—especially not this early into the year. He wonders if he could convince Kagami that he’s sick. Maybe it’ll be believable if he shares about how he hasn’t been in class for the past few days. Or maybe that’ll just make Kagami think he’s lazy. Besides, he knows he doesn’t look or sound sick.

And he doesn’t really want to particularly explain that yeah, maybe he’s kind of sick, —forgetting about practice is a symptom, he thinks—but not in the way Kagami would imagine.

So he settles for another half truth. “I’m not feeling well,” he says.

He’s not lying, but he also knows that it’s a vague answer and he’s not surprised that Kagami stands his ground and narrows his eyes. Daiki holds his gaze. Kagami doesn’t immediately berate Daiki and call him lazy, so at least that’s a start.

They’re locked in a staring contest for a few seconds. It slips Daiki’s mind that he _could_ let Kagami into his apartment instead of just staring at him standing in his doorway. Kagami breaks first. “I’ll tell Coach,” he says, sighing. “He’s not gonna like it, though. Doesn’t matter that you’re the Ace of Miracles.”

“I know,” Daiki says. He does. But there’s a pit in his stomach still, and somehow he thinks that practice won’t make him feel better about it. Not yet. Not today. So he repeats himself. “But I don’t feel well.”

“I know,” Kagami responds. There’s an unreadable look in the redhead’s eyes. Maybe if he squints it could be sympathy. Whatever it is, Daiki’s glad that he’s backing off. For now, the half truth will have to do.

What happens later he’ll deal with later.

Kagami sighs again, hoisting his sports bag higher on his shoulder. “I’ll see you after practice.” With that, he lifts a hand as a goodbye and turns to leave.

Daiki closes the door behind him and breathes a sigh of relief. He knows that eventually he’ll have to face the music and get back into the rhythm of university, but he can afford one more day. Just one more day. Tomorrow it’ll be back to business. He swears to himself that it _will._

It doesn’t occur to him until later that night when Kagami knocks again on his door that the other boy had said that he’ll see Daiki after practice.

This time, Daiki lets him in.

It’s a weird friendship that he starts developing with Kagami. If anyone is to force the truth out of him, Daiki would probably eventually admit that they’ve been kind of friends since after the Winter Cup during their first year of high school. Their rivalry is _somewhat_ friendly off the court, at least.

But even then, whatever relationship they had in high school isn’t the same as Daiki’s friendship with like, Satsuki or Tetsu. Kagami’s more than just a teammate _and_ a rival, sure, but he doesn’t know if they were really _friends_. He guesses that if he has to put it in words, maybe it’s the same kind of feeling Daiki has towards his Teikou teammates, except maybe he’s a bit more comfortable hanging out one on one with Kagami than say, Murasakibara or Midorima.

Either way, Daiki has never really thought to dwell on it. Not before university, before it became just him and Kagami in Osaka.

Here in university, where they live next door to each other, it’s hard not to get closer to Kagami.

Even harder when Kagami’s such a good cook, but that’s not something that Daiki would ever admit out loud.

Tonight he sits on the floor in Kagami’s apartment, back leaning against the wall as he casually munches on the chicken teriyaki onigiri that Kagami somehow had the time and energy to whip up after practice. They’re delicious.

Kagami turns around from where he’s seated at his desk, his own meal almost finished. “Good?” he asks.

Daiki’s mouth is full of rice, but he gives Kagami a shrug, then a nod. Anything more than that would probably be too generous anyways. They both know that Daiki likes Kagami’s cooking—he wouldn’t be here otherwise. There’s no need for him to say it, other than to inflate the redhead’s ego.

But they’re kind of friends now, so when he swallows the last of his food, Daiki says, “Thanks.”

Kagami offers him a nod of acknowledgement. “Eh, it’s not a problem. Wouldn’t want to have to call Momoi and let her know that her best friend’s dead next door. Someone’s gotta make sure that you’re alive.”

Daiki snorts. They both know that Kagami’s not doing any of this because of Satsuki. He’s seen the way Daiki’s fridge was empty when he came into the apartment that first time. He’s also realised that Daiki skipping classes has nothing to do with laziness. He’s— Well, right now, here in Osaka, he’s probably Daiki’s closest friend. But Daiki says none of that.

“She’d _kill_ you if I died under your watch,” he says, lips curving upwards.

They fall into an easy banter after that.

The basketball team’s first match is in Tokyo. Daiki’s excited to be home, but he’s even more excited about the fact that true to his words, he’s made a starter for their first game.

He made sure to give Satsuki a call when he heard the news, smugly telling her, “Told you I’d be just fine. You’re watching, right?”

She told him that of course she would watch. She wouldn’t miss it for the world, in fact.

When he and Kagami—who’s _not_ a starter, but of course he’s in first string and Daiki’s sure that Coach will throw him into the game at some point—and the rest of the team walk onto the court, he spots Satsuki’s pink hair and bright grin up on the bleachers. Next to her is Tetsu, and next to Tetsu is Kise. And next to Kise is Midorima, and— _God_ , Satsuki’s brought the whole gang here. All six of the Generation of Miracles.

He laughs. Kagami gives him a puzzled look.

He’s not sure how Satsuki managed to convince all of them to come, —it’s just a university basketball match—but he meets the eyes of each and everyone of them with a smirk. There’s no way in hell that he’d lose in front of them.

He nudges Kagami and jerks his head in their direction, and Kagami too laughs when he realises who’s watching. “Think we can give them a good show?” he says, grinning confidently.

“Hell yeah.”

Daiki holds his palm up, and Kagami slaps it with his own.

The crowd erupts when the buzzer sounds.

Daiki’s panting with exhaustion, but he looks up from where he stands on the court to find familiar faces in the crowd. Satsuki and Kise are on their feet, hands cupped over their mouths. Through the noise of it all, he thinks he might’ve heard Kise call out, “Aominecchi! Kagamicchi!”

He lets out a laugh again.

NBA be damned, _this_ is Daiki’s life now. He thinks he’s thankful for it. Because if this hadn’t been his life—

He wouldn’t have gone to university, as his new attempt of what normal would be for someone who is as abnormal as he is. He wouldn’t be standing on this court, with players who push themselves harder than he’s ever seen any of his Touou teammates. He wouldn’t be staring up at Satsuki, Tetsu and the rest of them with a grin on his face and enjoying himself. And he wouldn’t be here, developing a friendship with Kagami Taiga—who currently has his arm around Daiki’s shoulder and is grinning just as happily.

Mentally, he reminds himself to thank Satsuki later for convincing him to go to Osaka University.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i....honestly have so many headcanons for this verse that didn't make it into the fic because this is purely from aomine's perspective but, maybe one day we'll see more of this verse? who knows. **edit:** i have decided that i'm gonna add one more chapter to this fic so there'll be more expansion to the verse at least!
> 
> also huge thank you to andrea for reading through this and having character analysis discussions with me! i appreciate the galaxy brain-ing over knb personalities and also discussing day6 songs as knb charas :')


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i inserted a cameo of one of my favourite non knb sports animanga characters in this chapter, but you don't need to know who he is for this chapter to make sense.

Daiki celebrates his first university basketball win twice. First with his teammates, slapping each other’s backs and slinging arms around each other’s shoulders in the locker room. Their captain invites them all to celebrate at a nearby BBQ joint, but Daiki shares a glance with Kagami.

The redhead turns down the captain’s invitation for the both of them. They’ve both got a second celebration to attend. “We’ll be back for dinner,” Kagami promises. Daiki can tell that Captain’s disappointed, but he gives Kagami a nod and just tells them both to be back at the hotel by seven.

Then, after pulling a fresh shirt over his head and shouldering his sports bag, Daiki falls in line next to Kagami. They bid the team goodbye, and head out of the building together.

Satsuki and his old Teikou teammates are already waiting by the entrance. He barely has time to lift his hand to wave at them before Satsuki lunges at him. His best friend wastes no time to throw her arms around him. He leans into Satsuki’s hug, an arm wrapped around her and another resting on top of her head.

“I _knew_ you’d miss me,” Daiki says smugly, but it’s fond and he’s not particularly gloating—just pleased at the display of affection. Ever since they found themselves in different cities for university, Satsuki’s been a lot more affectionate during the rare few times they meet, and it’s a change that Daiki welcomes. It makes it less weird to not be constantly around her.

He hears Kagami snort, and he can tell without looking that Midorima is rolling his eyes. Tetsu’s probably staring.

Satsuki pays them no mind, but Daiki looks over his shoulder to once again smugly mouth, _See? She misses me._

Kagami snorts again, this time accompanied with an eye roll. Tetsu’s still staring, like he’s unamused by Daiki’s actions.

When he turns back to Satsuki, only fondness remains in his voice. “Hey,” he says, as a greeting. “Told you I’d be fine, didn’t I?”

She steps back, but she doesn’t move the arm that’s resting on her head, peering up at Daiki instead. “Yeah,” she says. She’s smiling, and Daiki thinks it’s a good look on her. “Yeah, you did, Dai-chan. Congratulations on the win.”

It’s more than the win. They both know it is. He hasn’t told Satsuki about how university has been weighing down on him from time to time, how sometimes Kagami has to drag him out of his apartment to make sure that he’s not dead to the rest of the world, but Daiki isn’t stupid. He knows that Satsuki would’ve figured it out anyways—to an extent, at least. She’s probably been worrying herself sick about him.

But he knows that he wears the win well on his skin. He knows he looks happy, and he knows that the glow is a reassurance for Satsuki. He still hasn’t lost it. Still hasn’t gone off to the deep end. The win _is_ worth congratulating for that reason.

Daiki smiles back at her, before letting her untangle herself from him. The bright smile she’s wearing on her face is now directed towards Kagami. “Congratulations, Kagamin!” she says. “You picked up Dai-chan’s slack really nicely, you know?”

At that, Daiki’s smile slips, and he’s about to glower at Satsuki when he feels an arm thrown around his shoulders. He doesn’t need to look to know that he’ll be met with the sight of blinding blonde hair to his right. Daiki sighs. “Kise.”

He’s not fooling anyone with that sigh, though, not when his body is still buzzing with excitement from the win and the corner of his lips still tug upwards. Even if he shrugs Kise off, Daiki wouldn’t be able to hide the fondness practically _oozing_ out of him—which is disgusting. So he embraces it.

He lets Kise hang onto him, lets his body lean into the other boy’s a little. It’s only when Kise tries to stand up taller to ruffle Daiki’s hair—still wet from the shower—that he finally maneuvers himself away from the blonde’s arm. “Okay, hotshot, personal space,” he warns.

“Calling Kise hotshot? You’re one to talk,” Midorima comments, and Daiki spins to scowl at him.

Akashi, —who’s standing next to Midorima, a sight when taking in their height difference, _really_ —the devil that he is, gives Daiki raised brows. The Akashi Seijuurou version of an amused look. Daiki flips him off.

“Rude, Mine-chin,” Murasakibara chimes in.

Daiki sighs again. Then mutters, “I _won_ , shouldn’t you guys be the one playing nice? Fuck you.”

“We’re nice to Kagami-kun,” Tetsu helpfully points out.

“Well, doubly fuck you then, Tetsu. He’s not the only one on the team.”

Kagami, catching wind of the conversation, turns away from Satsuki to thump Daiki’s shoulder. “Oi, Aomine. Don’t be so hard on them. They missed you, right?” he says, grinning.

All he says in response is, “Fuck you.” Again.

But there’s no real bite to it, and anyways, he’s not sixteen anymore. Not the same Aomine Daiki who pushed his friends to the sidelines because he was so sure that no one would be able to handle him head on. He’s nineteen now, and this time, he lets his friends stand by his side and lift him up—even if their shitty way of doing that involves making fun of him.

He celebrates this win with them.

When they exit Maji Burger, Daiki hangs back a little to match his steps with Satsuki’s. He doesn’t look at her, —his eyes instead landing on Tetsu and Kagami’s backs, who are trailing behind the rest of the Miracles—but he knows she’s listening when he opens his mouth to say, “Hey, Satsuki? I never got to thank you. So… Thanks, I guess.”

It’s almost comical how fast Satsuki’s head whips up so that she can look at him. He can feel her gaze on him, so he humours her and tilts his head to look back. She stares at him with a surprised look, maybe a little confused, with her mouth opened in a perfect ‘O’.

Then, “What for, Dai-chan?”

Heat rises up Daiki’s neck, which makes no sense considering that it’s nighttime and there’s a breeze outside. He breaks eye contact with Satsuki, looking down as he rubs the back of his neck. “Everything, I guess,” he says, shrugging.

He doesn’t need to look at her again to know that the pause means that her lips are stretching out in a slow smile. She always does that whenever he says something that makes her happy. And he thinks that maybe, him thanking her makes her happy—even if he’s not doing a very good job at doing it.

Sure enough, what leaves her lips next is a happy sigh, and she clutches his arm and hangs onto it, leaning into him before saying, “You’re welcome, Dai-chan. I’m just glad you’re happy.”

Daiki hums in response. “Yeah,” he says, because he isn’t sure of what else he can say. Part of him wants to say, _I hope you’re happy too, y’know? Your life doesn’t always have to revolve around me._

Part of him knows that she probably already knows that even if it remains unspoken.

“You know, you never answered my question.”

They’re sitting on the floor of Daiki’s apartment, two boxes of pizza opened up in front of them. On the other end of the room is the small television that Daiki’s mother had given him as a parting gift back when he moved to Osaka for university. Kagami’s eyes are glued onto the screen, where an NBA match is playing. Daiki doesn’t even get a glance—nor does Kagami slow down with chewing his slice of pizza—when the question is suddenly hurled his way.

Daiki’s brows furrow. “Huh?” he asks. “What question?”

They’ve spent the first half of the game mostly in silence, save for a few excited, “Yes! Nice shot!” He doesn’t recall Kagami asking a question, unless he’s completely spaced out these past few minutes and missed it.

The confusion in his voice is what gets Kagami looking in his direction. A sheepish look passes over Kagami’s face as he reaches up to scratch his head. “Huh, oh, yeah. Sorry. Forgot to elaborate,” Kagami starts. “I meant, you never answered why you didn’t go take a shot at the NBA.”

_Oh._

Daiki can’t help the ridges of his shoulders tensing. He and Kagami are friends now, —sort of—which means that he _could_ answer the question more honestly. But talking about a time that he’d rather just forget altogether seems kind of counterproductive. And Daiki’s not sure if he wants to talk about it, even if maybe Kagami deserves that honesty. He knows that Kagami knows about what happened in middle school, anyways—about what woke Aomine Daiki, the Monstrous Miracle.

It’s not that Daiki’s _embarrassed_ about that, because Kagami already knows and there’s no point in being embarrassed, but it’s still not something he likes talking about. And besides, what’s embarrassing is admitting that he’s _scared_. Scared of throwing away everything that he’s since rebuilt with Satsuki, Tetsu, his old teammates and _heck_ , even with Kagami. Scared of going back to a time that he’d rather never look at again, let alone relive.

The truth is he doesn’t know how to be honest with Kagami because being honest means facing the fact that he’s scared. Terrified, even, if he lets himself dwell on it.

And he doesn’t want to be terrified.

So he chews on his pizza slowly, turning the thoughts in his head for a little as he considers how to respond to Kagami’s question. When he opens his mouth again, he decides on, “It just doesn’t feel right.”

He thinks maybe Kagami gets it, because the other boy stops mid chew and his brows scrunch up, as if he’s thinking.

Daiki almost wants to poke at him, to tease him and say that the thinking look doesn’t suit him. But this is probably the most serious he’ll ever get with Kagami, so he reigns in the impulse and just watches, waiting for Kagami’s response.

Kagami’s brows are still furrowed when he says, “I’ve always thought you’d go pro.” He says the words slowly, —carefully, maybe, if Daiki lets himself look a little harder—like it’s both a statement and a question.

 _Me too,_ Daiki almost blurts out, but he opts for shrugging and taking another bite of his pizza slice instead. “Yeah, well,” he starts, dragging his eyes away from Kagami and back to the NBA game playing on TV. “Things change.”

He doesn’t expect Kagami’s, “Yeah. Yeah, they do.”

He’s in the middle of trying to pick a specific folklore to talk about in his report on how Japanese history has influenced their art and culture when a sinking feeling just randomly settles in his chest. “Fuck,” Daiki mutters, pushing his laptop away to make space to rest his head down on his desk.

It’s that feeling again, the one that has him asking himself what the _fuck_ the point of all this is. He doesn’t even know what he can do with a degree in Japanese Studies. He doesn’t know what he’ll do after university, _period_.

And sometimes, during odd hours of the day, —or night—it gnaws at Daiki and makes him want to tear his hair out.

Right now he feels like tearing his hair out. And maybe scream his frustrations, too.

After a while he peels his forehead away from the desk to reach for his phone. The digital clock tells him that it’s just a little after midnight, but he figures that it wouldn’t hurt to try. If he doesn’t get a reply, at least he can say he tried.

Besides, Satsuki’s always reprimanding him, telling him to make an effort to stay in contact with his old teammates—his _friends_ —and he’s done a pretty shitty job at it so far. Not that it matters all that much with most of them, but he knows that he at least owes Tetsu to stay in touch. Tetsu’s not most of them, after all.

So he unlocks his phone, scrolls through his texts to get to Tetsu’s contact, and starts typing.

 **aomine daiki**  
 _hey_ _  
__you awake_ _  
__?_

It’s a pleasant surprise when he hears his phone’s notification go off only a few minutes later.

 **tetsu**  
 _Hello Aomine-kun_ _  
__How are you?_

Daiki smiles despite himself. He guesses Tetsu doesn’t really need to tell him that he’s awake if he’s texting Daiki back right now.

 **aomine daiki** **  
**_oh hey_ _  
__good_

He pauses. This is Tetsu. There’s no reason for him to lie to Tetsu—not after everything they’ve been through. He picks up his phone again before Tetsu can type a response.

 **aomine daiki** _  
__well_ _  
__okay, I guess_ _  
__you busy?_

 **tetsu**  
 _No_ _  
__What is it?_

It shouldn’t be a surprise to him that Tetsu would immediately figure out that he wants—needs—something. But that’s not the only reason why he texted Tetsu, because it would be unfair if all he does is take and doesn’t give anything in return. He’s done enough of that, in middle school. He’s taken too much from Tetsu and not given enough back.

Daiki’s not going to make that mistake again.

He doesn’t know how to say it, but he hopes Tetsu knows that there’s a reason that Daiki’s texting him instead of anyone else. He _trusts_ Tetsu.

**aomine daiki**   
_what, I can’t want to talk to you?_

**tetsu**  
 _Of course you can_ _  
__But it’s midnight, Aomine-kun_

 **aomine daiki**  
 _oh_ _  
__are you about to sleep or something?_

 **tetsu**  
 _No_ _  
__But you wouldn’t text me so late if you didn’t need anything_ _  
__And for the record, I’d like to talk to you too_

His heart warms at Tetsu’s response. _I’d like to talk to you too._ Daiki’s glad that even after everything they’ve been through, Tetsu still thinks of him as a friend. Maybe it’s more than he deserves, but that doesn’t mean that he won’t gladly take it. After Satsuki, Tetsu’s his second oldest friend, and he doesn’t particularly want to lose that even if their friendship isn’t the same as it used to be.

 **aomine daiki** _  
__how did you know what you wanted to do?_ _  
__you want to work with kids after you graduate, right?_

 **tetsu**  
 _Ideally yes_ _  
__But I can’t say for sure_

Daiki’s brows raise at the response. He’s always thought that Tetsu is dead set on becoming an elementary school teacher since he’s first heard that his friend is going to pursue a degree in education. And Daiki thinks it suits him, that he can see Tetsu standing in a classroom full of kids, maybe reading them a story or something. His fingers fly over the keyboard, about to ask, _What do you mean?_ But the three dots that indicate Tetsu’s typing are still there, so he waits.

 **tetsu**  
 _I’d like to be able to work as an elementary school teacher, yes. But I haven’t even completed my first year of university_ _  
__Things can change in the next few years_

 _Things change._ Isn’t that what he told Kagami, when he asked why Daiki isn’t running full speed towards the NBA?

He frowns at the thought that it isn’t just him who feels that way, who feels like he has to change and deal with the uncertainty of it all. Of all his friends, it seems like Akashi and Tetsu would be the two people who have their lives figured out the most. And seeing even _Tetsu_ not have an absolute answer… Selfish as it is, it _does_ make Daiki feel better about himself. Still—

 **aomine daiki** _  
__fair I guess_ _  
__what if I don’t know what I want?_

The tightness in his chest isn’t entirely gone yet. He doesn’t know what he wants—what he _needs_. Heck, he doesn’t even know if Tetsu can give him an answer to that. Maybe he’s starting to get desperate.

 **tetsu** _  
__That’s okay_ _  
__Like I said, we’re in our first year_ _  
__You have time, Aomine-kun_ _  
__If university doesn’t work out, there are other options too_

And Daiki knows this. Of course he does.

No one forced him to accept that letter from Osaka University, even though he’s told Kagami that not even he was stupid enough to turn it down. This is Daiki’s choice. One that he’s happy with, even. The first game in Tokyo, arm in arm with Kagami, seeing Satsuki happy. Those are all things that made his choice worth it.

But some days—some days are just hard. Some days he doesn’t know what he’s doing, and the future seems like it’s both too close and too far away.

He’s better now. It’s not middle school anymore. High school did him good, and if Satsuki’s right, then Daiki has definitely grown up. He thinks that carried over to university, too, if the way he’s playing with his teammates tells him anything. Maybe he should ask Kagami what he thinks of Daiki. Maybe he should—

A sound from his phone distracts him from his thoughts. Another text from Tetsu.

**tetsu**   
_Are you still there?_

**aomine daiki** _  
__yeah sorry_ _  
__thanks tetsu_ _  
__hey_ _  
__do you think I've grown up?_

**tetsu**   
_Yes_

They’re only talking over text, but Daiki can almost imagine Tetsu saying it, with that blank but firm expression on his face. No hesitations. Daiki _has_ grown up.

And maybe that’s enough. For now that’s enough.

 **aomine daiki**  
 _I’m glad_ _  
__thanks again_ _  
__night, tetsu_

 **tetsu** _  
__Goodnight Aomine-kun_

Summer rolls around. He goes home to Tokyo for summer break, sitting next to Kagami on the bullet train like they did on their very first trip to Osaka together. This time, they talk. About basketball, about the NBA, about school. About their friends, too. A little bit about themselves.

They talk until Daiki feels sleepy, and he tells Kagami to wake him up when they get to Tokyo.

When he startles awake as the train pulls to a stop, Daiki thinks, _One term done._ Maybe he’ll make it through this whole university thing and figure it all out, just like Tetsu said.

Something about classes still feels incredibly monotonous. Maybe it’s because of the midyear blues, or maybe Daiki just expected something drastically different from high school in university—which isn’t all that true. But it feels like the days are bleeding together and all he can remember from classes are just sitting there staring at the screen as his lecturers drone on. Really, the biggest reason why his attendance hasn’t gone to shit is because of the scholarship hanging over his head.

But he forces himself to pay attention, just a bit, because Satsuki’s voice nags him in the back of his mind, going, _Dai-chan! You have to do well in class!_ Maybe he’ll try for her.

Well, he does, until halfway through the class he feels someone tapping his shoulder and he finds himself spinning around to glare at whoever it is. A boy with dark brown hair and a mean face stares back at him, raising his arms in surrender. “Easy there,” Kuramochi Youichi—who Daiki met on his first week—mutters.

Daiki gives him a _look_ , but he softens his glare just a bit. He likes Kuramochi enough, —has even hung out with the other boy a few times outside of class—so he figures that he doesn’t really have a reason to be a bitch. Still, when he turns to the front to face away from Kuramochi again, he bites back with, “What do you want?”

He hears Kuramochi snort behind him, then feels Kuramochi poke him with a pencil between his shoulders, and Daiki _really_ has to resist the urge of murdering his classmate. Maybe he has every reason to be a bitch. “Don’t test me,” he hisses.

“Fine, fine,” Kuramochi mumbles from behind him. “Break’s in five. Wanna ditch? I’m going to the library. Still got Art History to work on.”

It’s a tempting offer. With his attendance already recorded, it’s not likely that anyone would notice or look for him if he skips the next half of the class. Not that the library is a very enticing alternative, but at least he could put his earphones in and maybe watch highlights of that Bulls versus Lakers match that he missed.

He probably shouldn’t. But, well, when has Daiki been good at following rules anyways? It’s been increasingly harder without Satsuki keeping him in check.

Sure enough, not fifteen minutes later, Daiki’s seated opposite of Kuramochi in the library, with both of them staring intently at their laptop screens. But while Kuramochi is furiously typing away, Daiki’s noiselessly leaning in to narrow his eyes at his laptop. On the screen, the Bulls’ power forward leaps and dunks, and then the buzzer goes off. _Ah_. A buzzer beater. Sweet.

Grinning at the screen, he reaches for his phone, and starts typing.

 **aomine daiki** _  
__yo kagami_ _  
__you seen the bulls v lakers highlights??_ _  
__good match_

 **kagami** _  
__yeah_  
 _in class rn_ _  
text you later_

Daiki entertains at the thought of Kagami frantically typing and silencing his phone in class. He lets out a snort at that. Hopefully he’s not getting Kagami in any trouble or something.

When he finds himself still grinning at the promise of discussing the match with Kagami, though, all Daiki can think of as he boots up the post-game interview video is: Since when did the highlight of his university days become hanging out with Kagami over basketball?

It’s half time, and they’re neck-to-neck with Tokyo University. 76-71 in their favour, but two of Midorima’s three pointers would easily overtake them.

Daiki can feel the adrenaline pumping, the heat rushing to his face even when he walks off the court and wipes his face with the towel Kagami throws his way. A grin makes its way onto his lips. He doesn’t stop it. When their team captain comes up to him and says, “Nice play, Aomine,” he breathes in the compliment, too. He offers up his fist, letting the captain knock it with his.

It’s exhilarating.

It’s not just the fact that he’s playing against Akashi and Midorima, —with Kagami on his side, no less—but there’s something about playing difficult games that makes him feel like he’s more valued. _Anyone_ can win against shitty teams, but to make plays like he did in a match against two of the Generation of Miracles? That’s an Aomine Daiki speciality. And it feels good.

He goes to the bench to meet his other teammates and gratefully takes the bottle of water offered to him. There’s an empty space next to Kagami at the end of the bench, so Daiki sits himself down there.

Kagami grins at him and raises up a fist, an invitation. It’s a little weird, still, fist bumping Kagami and encouraging each other and celebrating victories together when they spent the better part of three years in high school on opposite sides of the court. But Daiki’s too tired to think about it, to dwell on what any of this means, so he gives Kagami his fist in return and settles next to him.

Kagami nudges Daiki’s knee with his own and tauntingly goes, “That all you got? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Daiki knocks his knee back against Kagami’s at that—probably a little harder than he should’ve, if Kagami’s yelp and glare are any indications. “And _you_ look like you’re about to fall asleep on the bench,” he retorts.

“Nah,” Kagami drawls. “Coach is gonna sub me in for you, seeing that you’ve got no fight left in you.”

“Shut up,” Daiki says, but there’s no bite to it. It’s almost routine now anyways, that Daiki gets pulled off the court for the third quarter and Kagami’s thrown in if he isn’t already playing.

Surprisingly, knowing that the team has his back feels good, too. It doesn’t feel like he’s not needed. It doesn’t feel like second year of high school, when Wakamatsu would argue with Coach about pulling him out because he was being _selfish_. It doesn’t feel like he needs to put up a fight.

Because he knows he’s valued. He knows that he’s pulled out for third quarters so that he can conserve energy for final quarters, where he can make that buzzer beater dunk and be named MVP.

This time around, Daiki’s slowly learning what it means to not just play _with_ a team, but _for_ a team. Maybe that makes the biggest difference.

So when Coach calls Kagami into the court, Daiki doesn’t fight it. All he does is give Kagami a lazy grin and says, “Make me proud.”

 _Fuck you_ , Kagami mouths in return.

And if Kagami’s part of the reason why he’s playing better with the team now, well, nobody has to know that.

The game ends with their victory. _Barely_ , but it’s still a victory anyways when he’s up against two people from the Generation of Miracles.

So naturally, in the heat of the moment, Daiki turns away from Akashi and Midorima, —after giving them the most _victorious_ smirk—and impulsively presses his lips to Kagami Taiga’s when the other boy’s arms go around him.

Kagami pulls away smiling.

They don’t talk about it after the match. Not when they’re in the locker room together, not when they leave the stadium side by side to meet Akashi and Midorima, and definitely not when the four of them are out to grab a bite—Akashi’s treat, of course. Even when it’s just the two of them again, walking back to their apartment building after dropping Akashi and Midorima off at their team’s hotel, they don’t talk about the kiss they shared.

Daiki steals a glance at Kagami. He’s got his sports bag slung over his left shoulder, his right free to brush against Daiki’s own shoulder. They’re walking close enough to touch. A few times already his arm has knocked against Kagami’s—casually, unintentionally, but the closeness isn’t lost on Daiki.

He hums a little, appreciating the casual physical closeness.

It’s the hum that gets Kagami lifting his head from whatever he’s doing on his phone to look at him, meeting Daiki’s gaze. There’s a questioning look in his eyes, but Daiki doesn’t feel like answering.

Instead, he knocks Kagami’s shoulder with his own. “Hey,” he says.

Kagami laughs at that, and shoves him right back. “Hey, Aomine.” Like they haven’t been walking side by side for the past ten minutes now. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to say hello. Just like that.

Their eyes meet again, and Daiki can’t help but smile a little.

Kagami looks away first, looking down at his phone again. “Hey, are we still down to marathon that one show you’re obsessed with?” he asks, arm brushing against Daiki’s again.

They’d made plans to watch Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood for after the match with Tokyo University no matter what the results would be. If it’s a win, —which it is—it’d be a celebration. And had they lost, well, it would’ve been a consolation pity party or something.

Between the match, the win—the _kiss_ —and the catch up with his old teammates, Daiki’s almost forgotten about the promise they made. Doesn’t mean that he’s going to turn it down, though. He’s seen the anime at _least_ four times now, but he’s always down for another rewatch. Besides, Kagami’s an absolute heathen for having never seen it, and he has every intention to fix that. Who cares that he grew up in America? It’s a rite of passage that everybody should go through.

So Daiki shrugs, tells Kagami, “Yeah, if you’re down. Could use some winding down to that after the game today.”

 _After the kiss_. But he doesn’t mention it because Kagami doesn’t. They don’t need to talk about it yet.

He hears Kagami snort to his side, and lifts his gaze back up to find the other boy looking at him. “What?” Daiki asks.

“Of course it’d be winding down for you. How many times have you seen that show again?” Kagami retorts. “You’ve probably got the whole thing memorised.”

“Maybe,” he says. “What’s wrong with that? It’s not my fault that you’re uncultured.”

Kagami shoves his shoulder again. Then says, “Yeah, I’m down. Just give me like, half an hour when we get home to call Tatsuya and Alex. Promised I’d update them about the match. Your place?”

“Mmhm,” he hums in response, nodding. If there’s warmth clawing up his chest from the casual contact from Kagami and the promise of a hangout like it’s no big deal, well, he doesn’t mention that either. Instead, Daiki adds, “Might not be getting any sleep, by the way. You’ll get hooked real quick.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Kagami points out. “I can sleep in. Bring it with this show. _You’re_ not sleepy, are you?”

From Kagami’s mouth, that almost sounds like a challenge. “Hell no,” Daiki says. He already knows that inevitably, this is going to end up as a competition of who can stay up longer, which means that Kagami will probably stay the entire night in his apartment.

He doesn’t mind. If anything, he’s glad. Glad that they can still hang like they usually do, bother each other into the late hours of the night while neither of them admits that they’re doing this because they like each other’s company.

All things considering, it sounds like the perfect post-match celebration to Daiki.

When they reach their apartment building, he turns to Kagami. “See you in half an hour,” he says, lifting his hand in a wave.

Kagami nods. “Yeah, see you.”

Later, Kagami comes into his room with his hands full of snacks. Daiki gives him a look, says, “We just _ate_.”

He gets an eye roll for that. “So?” the redhead replies, scowling at him before tossing a bottle of banana milk his way. “You’re welcome, the way.”

He wisely decides to not push it and busies himself with uncapping the drink. It doesn’t take long before Kagami settles next to him to start their marathon. He’s close enough that if Daiki just leans a little to the left, their shoulders would be touching. He thinks about doing it.

But Kagami beats him to it, kicking Daiki’s leg to make some space for himself and scooting closer. Daiki hides a smile as he takes a swig of his banana milk.

Maybe they don’t have to talk about it after all.

They still don’t talk about it the week after.

But Daiki’s not dense enough to not notice that both of them have been coming up with excuses to spend more time together. More than half the time, if Daiki’s not in Kagami’s apartment, it’s Kagami in his apartment. Or they’re out together. Even some of their teammates have joked about how the two of them seem to be attached at the hip.

He also doesn’t miss Kagami’s cheeks colouring, even when he confidently tells them, “Yeah, and what about it?”

He thinks maybe that means that Kagami likes spending time with him. Daiki thinks he likes it, too.

On any other given day, there’d be absolutely no reason for him to feel this excited over practice. It’s not every day Daiki does, either. Sometimes—on the particularly bad days—not even Kagami running next to him can give him that rush. But today is different.

Today is different because they’re having a practice match against a local team that Kise has managed to convince to play with Osaka University’s basketball team. But today is also different because it’s the first time he and Kagami are playing on the same team after Daiki’s impromptu victory kiss. Because he gets to play _with_ Kagami again. Today is different because maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance they could share another victory kiss if they win.

Oh, who the _fuck_ is Daiki kidding? They’d absolutely _wipe_ the floor.

Together.

Which means that all he has to do is work up the courage to throw himself onto Kagami again, but he’ll work on that later.

He grins at the thought.

Kagami’s arm is already around his shoulders when Daiki crosses the court to meet their opponents. Then, in a low voice so Daiki’s the only one who can hear him, Kagami teasingly says, “I can count on you to score us a win, yeah?” _Hey, I’ve got your back._

Daiki smirks, lazy and relaxed and everything that contrasts the heat and excitement barely contained in his body. “Of course. Let’s give them hell.” _And I’ve got yours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, this is going to get a part 3 because i'm a heathen. this was meant to be a one-shot but.... things happen, i guess?
> 
> also some notes? yes, akashi and midorima are both in tokyo university. i imagine kuroko and momoi also go to school in the greater tokyo area, though i haven't yet decided where. and in case anyone's curious, i headcanon that kise models and is a brand ambassador for an athlete wear brand meanwhile murasakibara is probably doing an apprenticeship with a chef or something. also, kuroko majors in education, aomine in japanese studies—which was influenced by him doing well in japanese history canonically—and although it hasn't been stated in this fic, my headcanon is that kagami's majoring in economics because analysis comes easier than bullshitting essays, apparently.
> 
> anyways! happy aokaga day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the most aokaga centric chapter in the fic? hope you guys enjoy!

Naturally, the news brings Daiki to Kagami’s door.

When the door opens, it’s the sight of Kagami in a basketball jersey that greets him. Which in itself, is obviously not an odd occurrence, —even off practice Daiki’s seen the redhead wear an old Bulls jersey—but something’s _off_ about Kagami’s jersey. It takes him a moment to realise what it is, because him and Kagami are about the same size and if it isn’t for the ‘5’ emblazoned across Kagami’s chest—

Daiki’s brain almost short circuits.

“That’s my jersey,” he manages to say. Kagami had texted him last night saying that he found Daiki’s jersey in his pile of dirty clothes when he was doing laundry, chalking it up to him probably having grabbed both their jerseys by mistake after yesterday’s match. Surprisingly, he’d also been kind enough to offer to wash Daiki’s jersey. _Since I’m doing laundry right now anyways. I’ll just throw it in,_ Kagami’s message read, and Daiki didn’t see why not. He figured he could always pick it up today anyways, which was definitely the plan for after he drops the news he has on Kagami.

Except now Kagami’s wearing his fucking jersey.

“You’re wearing _my_ jersey,” Daiki tries again.

Kagami gives him a look that says, _Way to state the obvious._ “Yeah, and?” he says, as if it’s the most _normal_ thing in the world for him to be wearing Daiki’s jersey.

Daiki can feel his mouth go dry as he registers that he’s still staring at the ‘5’ on the jersey. _Oh God._ His brain stutters to a stop when the realisation that Kagami’s wearing Daiki’s name across the back of the jersey hits him. Fuck. He imagines the ‘Aomine’ seated between Kagami’s shoulder blades, and he almost wants to reach over to turn Kagami around so he could see it for himself.

God, Kagami’s gonna drive him fucking insane.

But Daiki’s nothing if not competitive, especially with _Kagami_. He’s not admitting that Kagami wearing his jersey—his number _and_ his name—is doing things to him. So he forces himself to stop gaping and reluctantly drags his eyes back to Kagami’s face.

“I told you to wash my jersey, not wear it.” Daiki lets a scowl twist onto his lips too, for the effect.

“I’ve washed it,” comes Kagami’s answer. A shrug follows, and Daiki’s not sure if he wants to throttle him or kiss him. Maybe both. In that order.

 _Later_ , he tells himself. He needs to focus.

He should tell Kagami that he wants to _talk_ , that he has news to share, but what comes out of Daiki’s mouth instead is, “And now you’re wearing it.”

Kagami stares at him. “Well, yeah. I thought we established that,” he says.

Daiki glares back, unrelenting. There’s an urge to yank the jersey off Kagami’s body, but— That’s not a line of thought that he should be having right now. He settles for an indignant, “That means I have to wash it again!”

All he gets is another shrug. “Not my problem.”

This is impossible. He can’t believe that the _one day_ he needs to seriously talk to Kagami is the day that the asshole decides that he wants to drive Daiki fucking nuts—in more ways than one. His lips curl into an unhappy scowl. “Fine. Be that way,” he drawls. No point in arguing about this right now, not when he has more important things to say. “Are you ever gonna invite me in?”

“Since when did you need my permission?” Kagami shoots back. But he opens the door wider anyways, and steps aside to let Daiki in.

Kagami’s right, though. He hasn’t needed permission for a while now, not since Daiki pretty much half moved into Kagami’s apartment—and vice versa, really. He wastes no time to get himself settled into Kagami’s studio apartment, taking off his shoes and socks and hanging his jacket by the front door before heading to the kitchen for a glass of water.

When he turns to face Kagami again, he’s met with a scowl anyways. “Did you come to my room just to steal some water?” Kagami accuses. He doesn’t seem to mind, though. Daiki knows this already by now.

He raises his brows. “What, like you can’t afford an extra glass on your water bill?” Daiki retorts. “Plus, I ran all the way here from the gym. I deserve this glass of water.”

“Whatever,” Kagami says, but he’s now studying Daiki as the words sink in. He pauses for a beat, then goes, “Why were you running from the gym? Why were you _at_ the gym? There’s no practice today.” There’s never practice on the day after matches. But Daiki received a text message from Coach summoning him to the gym, so he had headed straight there after class and well, here he is now. Standing in Kagami’s apartment trying to recount the news that Coach had shared with him.

“Coach wanted to see me,” he says, shrugging. It’s half the truth. He should elaborate, but—

He’s _nervous_ , he realises.

It’s the same thing he felt when he held the scholarship letter from Osaka University, mouth gaping and staring at the words in shock. It’s the same feeling as when Satsuki had squealed and hugged him and said, “That’s amazing, Dai-chan! Osaka University!” It’s that feeling of knowing that he’s about to maybe take a leap, and he doesn’t know if he _should_ —if he’s ready for what’s to come.

Kagami drags him out of his thoughts by pushing past him to walk deeper into his apartment while saying, “Yeah? What’d he want? Gave you a new training regimen or something? Or did he finally tell you that you gotta step up your game or he’ll make _me_ ace?”

His brain almost shuts down now that he has a view of Kagami’s back, the name ‘Aomine’ stitched on the jersey he’s wearing. It’s fucking _unfair_ how distracting that is. Fuck Kagami and his stupid decision to wear Daiki’s jersey _today_ , out of all days.

But the distraction is almost welcomed, because it’s neither of those things that Coach wanted to talk to him about, and he’s not sure he’ll ever blurt it out if his brain catches up with his tongue first. It makes what comes out of his mouth next easier to say.

“Nah, but if I decide to sign with Evessa then I guess you can—how did Satsuki put it?—pick up my slack. Ace position is all yours, then.”

“ _What_?” Kagami spins around to face him again, and for a second, Daiki mourns the view of Kagami’s back, with his name written across it. _God_ , he really needs to get a grip.

He forces himself to drag his eyes up to Kagami’s face _again_ , refusing to look at the ‘5’ on the jersey Kagami’s wearing before he drives himself crazy. Daiki’s met with the sight of Kagami with his mouth hanging open, staring at him as if Daiki just told him that the earth is flat or something. It’s kind of a hilarious look on him, and Daiki would probably be laughing if it isn’t for the fact that he’s all too aware that his own hands are sweaty from blurting out that admission. Saying it out loud makes it feel so much more real.

 _Fuck_. He just potentially got offered a contract with _Osaka Evessa_.

And to think that the entire point of him going to college was to attempt living a normal life.

Then again, maybe he should’ve expected this.

Daiki’s not stupid, really. He knows that he’s a household name—hasn’t stopped being one since middle school. Isn’t that the reason why Osaka University offered him a scholarship? Isn’t his reputation why he’s made a starter on his university team without having to fight for that position? He’s not just _anyone_. Of course someone from Evessa would be interested in watching him play.

Daiki swallows as he puts his glass of water down on the counter. Kagami’s still staring at him like Daiki’s just turned his world upside down, brows furrowed and gaze accusing. _Explain_ , is written plainly on his face, so that’s what Daiki tries to do.

“Yeah, well, apparently a scout from the club or something was at yesterday’s game,” he begins. Kagami’s brows pull further down. Daiki doesn’t let himself dwell on guessing what Kagami is thinking about. “Told Coach they’ve heard of me. Was surprised I didn’t go pro, apparently. Wanted me to come to one of their practices next week. That’s what Coach wanted to talk about.”

Kagami blinks. Daiki’s throat tightens a little. What if— “You got a contract with _Osaka Evessa_?” Kagami’s voice pitches a little higher at the end of that question, and honestly, Daiki can’t blame him. It’s a big thing that he’s just dropped on Kagami.

But Daiki just shrugs, pretending that his hands aren’t clammy and he’s not having a hard time keeping his voice steady, too. “It’s not a contract,” he says. _Yet._ “They just want to see me. Experience being around the team or something. Then they’ll talk about it if I’m interested.”

He says it like it’s not a big thing, like he didn’t catch the eye of a Division 1 team and they’re not eager to sign him probably as soon as he walks into that practice. _Of course_ he’s interested. But that’s the scary thing, isn’t it? It’s like being interested in the NBA all over again. It’s going to be hard to say no. _Should_ he say no?

Maybe part of him wanted Kagami to answer that for him. Maybe that’s why he’s here in Kagami’s apartment, thoughts swaying back and forth between the fact that Kagami looks very hot in his jersey and the fact that he could possibly be playing for Osaka Evessa as soon as next month.

It’s just all too _fucking much_.

And it must’ve shown on his face, somehow, —that his mind is threatening to just _stop_ —because Kagami frowns at him again. Or maybe Kagami’s just still unable to process all this news. “You’re definitely getting offered a contract if they want you at practice,” Kagami starts. He says it slowly, like he’s trying to choose his words carefully. It reminds Daiki of that one time when he told Kagami that going to the NBA wouldn’t feel right. Then, almost as if a dam broke, Kagami exhales it all out in one breath. “ _Shit_ , Aomine. Osaka Evessa. That’s a Division 1 team. It’s not Alvark, but still. You’ll be in the fucking B.League. — What’re you gonna say?”

The question takes Daiki by surprise. It shouldn’t, really. It’s a logical question. But there’s something about the reminder that he has a choice, that he doesn’t have to sign just because Evessa is interested in him and he’s interested in Evessa that makes it feels like it’s both harder and easier to breathe at the same time.

What _is_ he going to say?

He doesn’t know what he’ll do when they push that contract into his hands and tell him, “Think about it.”

Well, he’ll call his parents. And then Satsuki. Maybe Tetsu, too. But after that? Daiki doesn’t know. What the hell is a twenty year old supposed to do when he’s offered a contract by a professional team, anyways?

He decides to tell Kagami just that. “Don’t know,” he says. It’s probably the most honest he’s ever been with Kagami with his words. “I’ve got until next week to think about it. And probably another week or two after that.”

Kagami just stares at him. Daiki’s almost disappointed that Kagami can’t give him the answer that he’s looking for. He thinks that if Kagami had given him an answer, —whatever it is—then maybe that’d be the answer he’d give to the club. But Kagami doesn’t. Instead, he says, “Fair, I guess. Wouldn’t know what to think either, if I got offered a contract with a pro team.”

It suddenly feels all too suffocating. He doesn’t want to think about this. Doesn’t want to have to make a decision about going pro. Doesn’t want to know what’ll happen if he says yes—or if he doesn’t. He doesn’t know what to think, and doesn’t _want_ to know what to think.

He has a week to figure this out.

He pushes himself off the kitchen counter to curl his fingers around Kagami’s wrist. “Come here,” Daiki says.

Kagami meets him halfway. Their foreheads touch, Kagami’s hair brushing against his own. Daiki still has a hand on Kagami’s wrist, but he can feel the other boy’s free hand coming to rest itself on his hip. He feels lighter now that he’s in Kagami’s space.

It’s not quite the feeling of victory, the feeling of being on a shared high while grinning and messily kissing after a win, but it’s something.

“You’ve got time,” Kagami tells him, his lips only a breath away.

“I’ve got time,” Daiki repeats. His eyes slip close.

Kagami’s lips brushes his. “Just know that if you sign that contract, you’ll still have to watch all my matches.”

Daiki grins. He opens his eyes again to look at Kagami. “Wouldn’t miss them for the world,” he says, before sinking his teeth down onto Kagami’s bottom lip.

Kagami’s fingers are still curled on his hip when they both pull away for air. The sensation of it—to have Kagami so close like this—is almost too much that all Daiki can do is breathe out a dazed, “Kagami.”

Which, of course, makes Kagami laugh, and if it isn't for the fact that it sounds very much like music to his ears right now, Daiki’s sure that he would’ve glared at the other boy and punched him on the shoulder or something. But he doesn’t even get to entertain that thought any further, because Kagami, with his forehead leaning against Daiki’s, mutters, “Y’know, you should probably start calling me by my first name if we’re gonna keep on doing this.”

_Oh._

A part of Daiki feels stupid for not having thought about it. The other part of him thrums with excitement at the implications of it. _If we’re gonna keep on doing this_ , Kagami— _Taiga_ —said.

“Taiga,” Daiki breathes out, trying out the name on his tongue. “Taiga.”

He gets another peck on the lips for that. “Yeah,” Taiga murmurs. “Much better. Daiki.”

This time, Daiki pulls away so he can properly look at Taiga. He looks so thoroughly kissed, his face flushed red and his lips swollen. There’s a warmth that claws its way into Daiki’s chest at the sight. He lets himself smile, slowly, surely. “I like the sound of that,” he says.

“Me too.” Taiga takes his hand, peeling off the fingers around his wrist so that he can link their hands together. Daiki squeezes the hand in his and lets Taiga lead him to the bed. He lets Taiga pull him down, lets Taiga kiss him again.

He doesn’t know how long they stay like that, limbs tangled together and lips pressed against each other’s, but when it finally registers to Daiki that they’re lying on Taiga’s bed that’s definitely too small for the two of them, he asks, “Hey. You’ll come after me, right?”

“Hm?” Taiga hums.

Daiki places his palm on top of Taiga’s. “If I go to Evessa,” he says. “If I play in the B.League, you’ll come after me, right?”

His question is met with silence. A beat of silence, then another. He’d expected Taiga to snort and go, “Hell yeah. Wouldn’t want you to get big headed.” But there’s still silence, so he peers at Taiga, who looks like he’s deep in thought about it.

Taiga meets his eyes. “I don’t know,” he says. Maybe this is the most honest Taiga’s been with his words, too. Daiki feels his heart squeeze, just a little. “Maybe I will. I’d want to. Can’t leave you to the big leagues all alone, can I?” There’s a grin slowly curving on Taiga’s lips, and Daiki almost breathes out a sigh of relief.

He lets his forehead press against Taiga’s again.

“Hey,” Taiga says. Maybe Daiki’s imagining it, but he sounds a little softer now. “Even if I don’t play in the league, you know that I’m not gonna fall behind, right? Can’t have you spewing that ‘the only one who can beat me is me’ shit again.”

This time Daiki really does breathe out a sigh of relief.

But that’s before he smirks, and—knowing full well that it’s going to get on Taiga’s nerves—drawls out, “The only one who can beat me _is_ me.” Never mind the fact that Taiga _has_ beaten him before.

“I can’t stand you,” Taiga huffs.

Daiki doesn’t miss a beat. Just gives him a look, kicks at his shin and goes, “Well, you’re lying down.”

Safe to say that Taiga spends the next fifteen minutes complaining about how he doesn’t understand why he’s so fond of Daiki.

Later, after the teriyaki dinner that Taiga so generously cooked for the both of them, Daiki lets himself give Taiga’s body an appreciative look. Taiga’s still in his jersey, and Daiki thinks maybe it’s worth it to have to wash his jersey again if it means that he gets to stare at this all night long.

Taiga raises his brows. “Like what you see?”

Daiki doesn’t think he could deny it even if he wanted to. He thinks again of the ‘Aomine’ stitched onto the back of the jersey Taiga’s wearing. “You know,” he starts, lips curling upwards. “If I sign with Evessa, you can keep this jersey. I’ll even sign it for you.”

He gets a basketball thrown his way—to which he catches, because he’s nothing if not a potential professional basketball player. “Shut up. You just like seeing me in your jersey.”

Daiki really has no retort for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooo, i finally managed to wrap up this fic and i think i'm really happy with the way i ended it? i wasn't really sure if this was the direction i wanted to take with it, but it just...seems fitting, i guess? i intentionally left it an open ish ending too and you can think what you want about what aomine's answer to osaka evessa is going to be, but i've also hinted what i think it's going to be. either way, i think he's in a more solid headspace now? hopefully? he has a support system, and that's not something that he allowed himself back during the teikou days. so here's to hoping!
> 
> as a sidenote, though, i don't know how obvious it is but i want to just mention that aomine _does_ in fact have depression in this fic, but it's undiagnosed. that's partly why the mentions of his symptoms are very sparse and barely expanded on, because he himself doesn't like thinking about it and what it means. i also imagine that he's too bullheaded to consider therapy ( no, aomine, playing basketball won't cure your depression ), which is well, why he is the way he is. full disclosure, i absolutely do not endorse this, but i know how it feels like to be in denial about being mentally ill and that's what i wanted to portray with aomine. i hope that delivered right? that being said, though, i do very much headcanon that sometime in the ( hopefully near ) future he eventually _does_ go to therapy, so there's that. maybe i'll touch upon that in another fic in this universe or something. we'll see.
> 
> anyways, i don't want to ramble for 173432 words with this author's note, so i guess the only thing i have left to say is that i hope you all enjoyed this fic? thank you so much for reading! <3


End file.
